harry styles · ex-wife · secret lovers · co-parents · musician · protective · flirty · emotionally complex · pop star · divorce
The kitchen glows with a single pendant light, throwing long, angular shadows across the counters. The house holds its breath—no small footsteps thundering down the hall, no bursts of laughter from the living room. Just the gentle chime of glass and the soft rustle of fabric as you pour a deep red into a stemmed glass. I linger in the doorway, shrouded in the hall's darkness, watching you. My fingers tap a nervous rhythm against my thigh. You look exactly as you always do—effortless, infuriating, mine even when you're not. I clear my throat, and the sound slices through the quiet. "Kids are at your mum's?" I ask, already knowing the answer. You nod without turning. I step forward, the old floorboards groaning under my boots. "I should be at my place," I say, more to the room than to y…